The Wrong Type of Redemption

3 Four Days Later… Sunday


3: Four Days Later… Sunday

Sitting on the ground, in the middle of the field where the horses grazed, Jerry worked on his laptop. He checked his battery, noting he had thirty minutes of power left before it out of juice.

He continued to work on the program he was writing when he felt something lean against his back. He didn’t have to turn and see who it was. He knew his twin anywhere.

“You know dad won’t be happy if you’re not watching the horses.” Gerald’s newly deepened voiced hypnotized him.

Jerry smiled looking over the script wondering if he entered everything correctly. “He won’t be happy, but he’ll overlook it because he knows you’re doing it for me.”

He felt Gerald’s laugh against his back. “So are you going to reward me for picking up your slack?”

Jerry tensed, looking to make sure no one was around. The grassy plains stretched out in several directions with trees scattered about. Wind blew through his hair, mussing it. His eyes traveled the perimeter where the wood rail fence kept the horses from going too far. No ranch hands were in the area. They probably already went home for the day. They were far enough away from the houses that no one could see them unless they had binoculars.

His mother would be cooking dinner. Football practice kept Eric away. And their father was with grandpa.

Feeling the weight on his back shift, he soon found the laptop being picked up and closed. His twin lay his head in Jerry’s lap as he hugged the device to his chest, knowing it was precious to Jerry. Gazing down at his brother, Jerry quirked a smile.

“Come on, Glitch…” those tempting lips said, grey eyes daring him. “A small reward?”

Jerry nodded, trying not to blush as he leaned down for a quick kiss. But Gerald’s hand came up and held Jerry’s neck, making the contact so much longer…and sweeter…

Sunday Morning…

Jerry lay in bed in his studio apartment looking up at the ceiling, enjoying the memory that met him when he woke. Sun peaking through the blinds of the only window in the room had stirred him from sleep and yet it was the memory that kept him awake. As the warmth of his twin faded Jerry recalled yesterday.

They won their first game of the college football season last night and Jerry felt good about it even though his muscles cried from the strain of taking so many hits.

His doctor warned him that football or any contact sport could make his hearing worse, but Jerry didn’t care. He was almost tired of sound. No one seemed to ever have anything to say he wanted to listen to. He didn’t want to talk to the world. He didn’t want to be friends with anyone or anything. He just wanted to…

He closed his eyes and turned over letting the tears fall on his pillow as thoughts of Gerald’s kiss floated to the forefront of his mind.

I’m pathetic.

Some days he got through without feeling like a total loser mostly because he made himself busy with study, computer, football, and volunteer work at the center. But the days he had little to do… the pain hit like a wave.

He tried repeatedly to pull himself out of the depression and the misery, but with one thought of his brother Gerald or the eldest brother, Eric, it all rushed at him as if trying to choke him. Whoever said time healed all wounds was a fucking liar.

Why was he so weak? No matter how much he built his body up on the outside, his insides still cried like a fucking brat. It was that weakness that destroyed his family. He should’ve been strong enough to tell Gerald no. To warn his brother they would get caught. Instead he allowed Gerald to love him in the worse way. Jerry still remembered those grey eyes like his own staring at him as they kissed and…

It had been heaven until the door opened.

Tired of playing the past over in his head, Jerry finally rolled out of bed about noon and took a shower. He put his hearing aid in before leaving the bathroom. Naked, enjoying the AC on his skin, he walked into the kitchen area and grabbed a bottle of apple juice. Then he made a quick sandwich. He did miss his grandmother’s cooking. She had taught him to cook, but it wasn’t the same as hers.

After finally putting on some pants, he sat down on the floor and began working on his History paper. Because it was just him in his little studio apartment, he didn’t have any chairs or a table. There was just the kitchenette, his full size mattress that lay on the floor, a small television, his dresser, closet space, and a small bathroom with sink, toilet, and shower sans tub. He was a simple guy, so he needed no more than that. Plus, the money he got for his disability and scholarships only went so far so he had to spend wisely.

It was about eight that night when a knock came to his door. He frowned, not expecting anyone. At first he thought his hearing was doing something weird, until the knock came again. Even though the person probably had the wrong door, he got up anyway and answered it just in case.

He should’ve looked through the peephole first. If he had he’d have never opened it.

There, standing as tall as Jerry himself but not as muscular was a man he hadn’t laid eyes on in five years. Those deep blue eyes just stared at him as Jerry stared back. Small lines marred his forehead showing slight aging, but he wasn’t much older than what Jerry remembered. Jerry and his twin looked like their mother, so they didn’t inherit the sandy blonde hair, the thin nose, or blue eyes. Jerry’s features were more Romanesque.

Jerry’s brain was blank with anything to say — part shock, part confusion. His father had started sending emails to his email account over a year ago when he first entered college. The man claimed he wanted to talk. He wasn’t sure how the guy got his email address back then.

And now here he was.

“Can I come in?” A gruff voice asked. It sounded rougher than Jerry remembered — raw like he just woke-up and refused to drink water.

Jerry stepped out into the hall, closing the door at his back, letting him know the answer.

They stood chest to chest, nose to nose. The man stepped back giving them both space.

“I…want to talk. Can we?”

Jerry said nothing as he just stared. There was a time his father had been bigger, tougher, a guy Jerry admired. But now, the only advantage the guy had was age. Jerry was just as tall but more muscle — muscle he knew how to use.

“I…um…would you like to go somewhere public? Maybe the Chinese place around the corner,” His father asked, his tone uncertain yet heavily masculine.

Jerry didn’t know what he wanted. He didn’t know if he wanted to hate his father, hurt him, or find out why he abandoned them? Did he want to know what was going through the guy’s head at the time? Would it help clear the shit from Jerry’s own head? Probably not. Maybe it would just massage that guy’s guilt. Was that why he was here?

After a long uncertain silence, Jerry finally asked, “How did you find me?”

“Oh, um…An email told me where to find you. Don’t know who it was from but… I took a chance.”

Email? His grandparents didn’t do email. Plus, his grandparents hated his father. Who else would know about his father? He never talked about his past, his family, so no one…

The light bulb clicked on in his head — Tyler. He was the only one who though Jerry should reach out to the man. He knew that golden-eyed brother was fucking trouble.

They stared at each other for another long moment before Jerry finally decided to allow the man his words since clearly he wasn’t leaving. Then he could send the asshole on his way.

He opened the door to his apartment and walked in leaving the door open. He took a clean shirt from the drawer and shoved it over his head. Then he grabbed his keys and wallet. He closed the door behind him and locked it with his father standing at his back.

Without turning to say a word, still uncertain what to say or how to feel, Jerry walked the hall and to the stairs. He took one flight down to the ground floor and headed to the street. The presence behind him following he assumed was his father because he never looked back to confirm. He went to the Mexican restaurant down the street. They had good tacos and he could get a lot for a little bit of money.

Most of the staff knew him and instantly greeted him, sitting him down at a table near the front. The Hispanic bar and grill stayed open most of the night so Jerry would sometimes go there to eat and do his school work since they had free wifi.

Jerry ordered his usual.

His father ordered a burrito platter and a beer.

When the waiter left to put his order in, his father blew out a breath. “Thanks for allowing me to-“

“You’re paying for dinner.”

The man just stared in shock before he chuckled. “I can do that.”

Jerry had missed that smile. Then he cursed that thought. The man didn’t deserve his appreciation. 
When the beer came, his father drank half before he put down the bottle. He played with the label, peeling it at the edges. “I…um… I wanted to apologize.” He cautiously glanced up at Jerry and swallowed what seemed to be a large lump in his throat.

Apologize? So he was looking for forgiveness. Jerry said nothing and diverted his gaze down to stare at those large fingers playing with the neck of the brown bottle. Each digit was long, thick and rough looking. Probably from manual labor. Small scars could be seen on the creamy skin. The nails were chipped to stubs. Those hands made the bottle look small in comparison.

“I mean, I could never…never take back my absence.” He spoke again when Jerry never responded. “You have every right to hate me. I should have handled it better. I shouldn’t have…left. Everything was just too… If I had just…” The man sounded choked up, but Jerry didn’t feel pity for him. He felt something else as he relished the pain in his father’s voice. It made his cock stir. Jerry frowned not comprehending his reaction. “Jerry…what do I have to do-” He cut off when the food arrived.

That’s another thing Jerry liked about the service there — they were always fast. He ate as his father continued to play with the label on his bottle. Jerry just stared at those hands in front of him and wondered how would those thick long fingers feel around his cock.

I must really need to get laid… Who lusted after the motherfucker that abandoned a whole family – wife and kids – without a word?

Jerry polished off all seven tacos before he took a drink of his cola. Then he finally looked his father in the eyes. “Are you going to finish your food?”

The man just pushed the plate over to Jerry looking a bit sad and pale. Jerry waved for the waiter. He requested a takeout box and told the man that his father was picking up the check. After the aluminum container came, he used his fork to slid the burritos into it. Breakfast in the morning.

Without another word, Jerry stood and strolled back to his apartment alone still wondering how he should feel…because being hard as a rock, enjoying his father’s torment, only confused him more.

He couldn’t get his father’s pained voice from his mind. And those strong hands. His cock still hadn’t gone down and instead seemed to thicken. Once back home, he put his container in the frig, kicked off his shoes, unzipped his pants, and pulled out his eager dick. He began fisting himself, pleasure shooting down his legs as he walked to the bathroom. He imagined his father’s voice in his ear, heavy, raspy begging Jerry to forgive him. He pictured his father’s clean shaven hard broad jaw in his face, nose to nose, pleading for Jerry to love him again. The sound of each gruff word prickled against Jerry’s skin like sensual sandpaper.

Shit… Jerry blew out heavy breaths, his fingers spread the precum over hot skin as he picked up speed. His hips jerked, enjoying the friction and heat created by each pump going over and over the most sensitive parts of his prick. His balls drew up. He groaned, legs slightly trembling before he shot strings of cum into the toilet. Pulling a few sheets of toilet paper from the roll, he wiped up any strays and flushed it.

Staring at the swirling water in a stupor, he wondered how fucked up in the head he had to be to get off on something like that. But he knew he had issues. He’d been insane since the first time he confessed to his twin that he also loved him as more than a brother. Had Eric not walked in that day, Jerry would’ve given Gerald his virginity, his everything, because it all belonged to Gerald since birth. So yeah, Jerry was fucking mental, and that wouldn’t change.


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